


Quiet

by extemporaneous



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff, Handprint, M/M, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-23 00:26:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/extemporaneous/pseuds/extemporaneous





	Quiet

Dean glanced towards the window, squinting because the curtains were still open and the sun was setting, a bright red line turning hazy and purple as the night grew. He shifted, feeling the heat of Cas' body behind his, the angel's nose pressed against his spine and his lips pressed to his shoulder blades. He was breathing quietly, peaceful. The hunter loved seeing him like this, even if there was sparse light, the contours of his face seemed softer, his cheekbones still tinged red after earlier, chocolate hair mused from when Dean ran his fingers through it. Cas was vulnerable and his and the thought made his heart go faster. Dean knew that the dark smudges under Cas' eyes would probably never fade, but he didn't want them too, they were endearing and a part of the angel, and Dean loved all of him. Shivering as the vents started, Cas nuzzled into him. Gently, Dean pulled the covers back over them, tucking it in around the bare angel, before resting his head back on the pillow. He blinked when Cas slipped his arm under Dean's and then back up, so his hand aligned perfectly with it's matching scar that he had given him so many years ago, but smiled and let a hum of pleasure escape.  


Even closer now, all parts of them crammed together, Cas was kissing him, his pink lips brushing up his back until they reached the corner of his jaw. Every where they touched left flowers of radiating tingles. There was a ruffle of feathers, soft as they brushed the mattress of the bed and Dean felt one of Cas' dappled grey wings slide over him, covering the hunter and protecting him. It was small thing, but Dean felt safer even though there was no danger, warmer even though he was never really cold. He brushed his hand across the wing, following the grain of sorts, feeling the smooth elongated feathers and the downy small ones, counting each and every one of them as he admired their beauty. It was so dark now he couldn't see much, but he felt much more. He didn't need to see the curve of Cas' lips when he smiled, the flutter of his eyelashes, his subdued blue eyes because he felt and knew them better than he knew his own heart. 

And for Dean, the curl of their bodies, the quiet breathing, the little small movements were enough, and he could never think of anything he wanted, _needed_ , more.


End file.
